'There's millions of things I'd rather do than have sex after 60'

For at least one reader, it's 'closed for business' when it comes to bedtime antics. Source: Pexels

We’re revisiting some of our most popular stories of the year, so readers who may’ve missed them the first time around can enjoy them. This blog from a reader is one of them.

Sex is a powerful word – and also a powerful act when done with the right person. 

It has, however, been more than ten years since I’ve engaged in any horizontal folk dancing. These days I have no drive whatsoever. 

I don’t think I’m one of those sexless people; I think it’s more a case of overdoing it in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Come to think of it, I was also overly active in the ‘80s too.

The first time my husband left me I had a one-week affair with a cutie. He was 10 years younger than me. Then I did the same with 90 per cent of the personnel in the company my husband worked with.

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My husband came and went four more times after that and in the end I just went looking for anyone with a pulse. I was a woman scorned, I guess, after being dumped four times by the same man.

By the time I’d turned 50, the universe had decided to give up on me because my use-by date in the sex department had well and truly come and gone.

I guess I could go to the doctor and get some Viagra but that worries me as I am aware of how dangerous it can be.

A friend got a bit anxious at the thought of finally getting his lady friend horizontal so he popped a Viagra but started to choke. He had a stiff neck for days.

Strangely, I don’t miss sex at all. I can think of a million things I would rather do, such as having a boil lanced or eating excessive amounts of chocolate.

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Maybe I have replaced sex with food, which would explain why I am having trouble fitting into my pants.

Seriously, I prefer the company of my dogs. They don’t judge me, they don’t care if my weight is up and bed hair is not a problem for them.

I can put the same meal in front of the dogs night after night and they are always excited to eat it. If I did that to my ex-husband, by night three he would say: “Not this crap again!”

Can you relate to the author, or have you still ‘got it’?